


Color Book: Pink

by puff22_2001



Series: New Chapters in Our Color Book [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Parenthood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing, Trauma, Triggers, Wingfic, a very tiny bit, companion to Athene Noctua, winged!Hermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1803949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puff22_2001/pseuds/puff22_2001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red mixes with white and love mixes with pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Color Book: Pink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [curiumKingyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/gifts), [pickleplum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/gifts), [kiri_stansfield](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiri_stansfield/gifts).



Newt fumes, which is rare these days. He and Hermann fought for the first time in ages, and Newt feels both angry and guilty. The argument was pointless, but summer heat affects Newt’s temper more than he ever thought possible when he agreed to move to the tropics.

  
“Fuck me.” It’s their day off and they had plans—fun family plans!—but now Hermann’s brooding silently in their bedroom. Newt tries to cool off by washing dishes in the kitchen. Their picnic on the beach looks less and less likely and Newt doesn’t deal well with disappointment or shame.  
  
Little hands grab him around the legs and nearly trip him. Newt looks down and smiles at his son. Their _son_! Just looking at the boy vaporizes most of Newt’s annoyance.  
  
“‘Morning, Artur! Ready for the beach?” The small boy doesn’t look up but clings tighter, his skinny arms wrapped around Newt like a cuddly octopus.  
  
“No fight папа.” Muffled though the voice is, Newt gets the gist of Artur’s broken English. His smile falters. He knows from his own short stint with two parents how hard a fight can be on a child.  
  
“We’re fine, doll. Really. папа and I just had a . . . difference of opinion, is all.” Artur looks up and the tears in his dark eyes rip Newt to pieces. The poor kid is barely out of a terrible orphanage after losing both biological parents to the war. Now Newt is being a total asshole and freaking him out even more!  
  
“Did папа ask you to talk to me?” Although he doubts Hermann sent their son to play peacemaker, he also doesn’t see Artur coming up with the idea on his own. From what little Bastien learned, the kid’s bio-parents were as happy as could be in poverty and war. He shouldn’t have a reason to fear marital strife.  
  
“I didn’t. I assume he heard us shouting,” Hermann says as he walks into the room, his beautiful wings free in the heat. Newt’s concern for Artur distracted him from Hermann’s distinctive cane taps. Hermann’s lonely, sad face makes Newt’s guilt flare up even worse.  
  
Hermann stiffly lowers himself to the floor using his wings for balance and carefully separates Artur from Newt’s legs. Freed, Newt wipes his hands on a dishtowel and sits with his husband and child. Artur immediately latches onto Hermann with an arm around his neck and grips Newt’s arm like a vise.  
  
“Fight war, fear.” Artur breaks out in English before changing over to rapid-fire Russian. Newt can barely keep up, but Hermann’s face grows sadder by the second. When Artur slows and stops to catch a breath, Hermann translates for Newt.  
  
“He’s worried about us fighting because it reminds him of the war and the camps. Violence was very common there.” Hermann strokes the child’s hair as he reaches for Newt’s hand. Newt seizes it and smiles back at Hermann. “He doesn’t want us to break up like so many families did during the war.”  
  
“Tell him that Daddy is very sorry for being a big moron to папа and that we’re not going to break up.” Newt laughs suddenly and Artur looks up with hope in his eyes. “Not after almost fifteen years of fighting, at least.”  
  
Hermann smiles back at his husband before speaking to Artur in his native tongue. Artur responds with enthusiasm and Newt catches only “apologize” and “wrong" in the chatter.  
  
“Artur says you are a very good Daddy to apologize. I explained to him we were both wrong and that when we hurt people that we love, we should always say that we’re sorry.” Newt beams at Hermann, feeling his heart might burst.  
  
_Hermann is his husband!_ _Artur is his son!_ He has a real family after thinking for so long that his mental illness and oddness and “wrongness” would keep him from such bliss. Even with their quarrels, he and Hermann are so happy. They have a life together and that means so much more than petty bullshit.  
  
Newt squeezes Hermann’s hand and basks in the grin that blooms on his husband’s face. He strokes Artur's back with his free hand and similarly revels in Artur’s answering smile.  
  
Newt musters his limited Russian to get it right. He has to explain in a way that both Artur and Hermann will understand. He loves them so much.  
  
“This,” Newt says, tracing a line connecting his heart to Hermann’s, to Artur’s, and finally back to his own, “is _so_ very pink.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a shameless riff on a dream that I had just recently. I was the child in the dream rather than fanbaby Artur, but otherwise everything is just as in the dream. :3
> 
> Please feel free to make corrections or suggestions! I love when people comment. :3


End file.
